Maternal Instinct
by NixyKnight
Summary: Keep your family close and leave no man behind. A few new additions experience the Apocalypse through different eyes... the battered woman, the pregnant girlfriend, and the last man standing. Seasons 1-4, slight AU. Daryl/OC, Merle/OC, Andrea/OC.
1. We're Gonna Be Fine

**Hey there!**

**I posted this story before, but it got really choppy and I split it into four different stories and *sigh* I needed it all in one place again, and also I needed to rewrite a lot of pieces. So I'll be posting the full thing here from now on, a few chapters a day. For people who read the original - there's some big changes. Eg Bethany Marks is now Abby Marks basically because of the confusion with Beth Greene.**

**Reviews are happily accepted and encouraged :)**

* * *

Chapter One: We're Gonna Be Fine

**Kylie-Jane Creek**

In the beginning, we were clueless.

We didn't know what we were getting into - what we were going to face in the year to come. But we brought out the big guns, anyway, and prepared for the worst. Well, it's the south, is there any other way?

We got our information from scattered sources, a friend here, neighbor there.. radio stations were our main connection to the rest of the world. People didn't really have a clue what it was, though. It was just a big game of Chinese whispers. I mean, how could we know? The dead were up and walking, it wasn't as if we had been trained for this. It crumbled us.

And look at us, now? I'd make a guess that just over 90% of the population was dead. Walking or not. Hell, I knew that probably better than anyone. I'd just lost so much over the course of that first year. We all had.. This world was _brutal. _It was devastating_._ And the worst part wasn't even the dead, but the peoples' reactions to it. We were thrown back to our roots again. Fighting over food and water and territory. We were reminded what it means to be human. That's all we had left.. Being human. Everything else was dust in the wind.

It wasn't even about surviving, either. Sure, for a while there, all I could think about, all _any_ of us could think about, was where we'd get our next meal, where we were going to sleep, who was going to stand guard. Now? We were trying to win back our world, win back our way of life, our culture... Our _humanity._ Those memories were all we had. The little slivers of ourselves that we'd nearly lost completely. Now was our time to win it back.

I remember that first day, probably clearer than all the others. Because that's when it really started, for me. Not to news reports, the strange injuries turning up in the ER, or the government cover-ups. (Yeah, "swine flu" my ass.) For me, the end of the world started the first time I saw a corpse get up and walk again. Two weeks after the disease went Global.

* * *

**Day 14**

I was lying on the couch in the living room of my little blue and white country home in King County, Georgia. My casted leg was propped up on pillows, and I itched at it absently, staring at the TV. I looked up as my weary fiance walked into the room.

"Hey," I smiled up at him, "You think you could pass me the remote?" I asked in a sweet voice. He picked it up without a word and tossed it on the couch next to me. He sighed, and flopped down into the armchair, five billion miles away from me. I watched him carefully while he glared at the TV, the credits for 'SWAT' playing on the screen. A ticker tape ran across the bottom of the screen talking about the new virus that everyone was getting cooped up in hospitals because of for the past two weeks.

"You gonna change the channel," He said flatly, not looking at me. I turned my head back to the TV and set the remote down again.

"Changed my mind." I muttered. He didn't say anything. I looked over at him again and studied his face, his features set into a permanent scowl. I had no idea what was wrong with him. The day went by as it usually did… Merle slept in till 3pm on the couch and then woke up with a hangover - which I'd fix with coffee and cold pizza. Daryl and I would wake up early and make breakfast together - well, Daryl would burn the shit out of pancakes trying to keep me off of my injured leg and I'd get annoyed and shove him aside. I'd call Abby Marks - my best friend, and Merle's girlfriend - and chat for five hours until either Daryl wanted me or Merle wanted to talk to her. Then in the evening Daryl and I would retreat to the bedroom and mess around or watch a movie.

Today, we were settling down and watching credits in awkward silence, and this morning Daryl had gotten up before me and served freaking stupid toast for breakfast before disappearing out in the woods for four hours with his damn brother. I mean, _toast_.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, eyes burning marks into the side of his face, my southern accent coming out stronger the more ticked off I got. He shrugged his shoulders. "Really," I said, "I kind of want to know what's wrong with you today."

"It's nothin'." He mumbled, still looking at the TV. He was starting to piss me off, now. I grabbed the remote and flicked off the TV.

"Talk to me." I snapped. "Please."

He stood up without a word and started to leave the room. My heart dropped. He really was mad at me.

"Daryl," I whispered his name slowly. "Stay." He turned and looked at me then, the look on his face cold and harsh. "What did I do?" I asked.

He looked away, eyes falling somewhere else, and opened his mouth to say something.

He was interrupted by several gunshots from the front yard.

Daryl disappeared, sprinting to the porch through the side door. I struggled to sit up to see what was going on. My crutches were leaning against the couch and I grabbed onto them, trying to lift myself up.

"Merle!" I heard Daryl shout for his brother, "Merle what the hell?"

I heard Abby scream as more shots rang out, and that was it, I pulled myself up and quickly maneuvered my way to the front door.

"Daryl!" I called as I reached the front porch. I took in the scene in front of me. Merle was standing with a shotgun in his hands, Abby cowering behind him. Daryl stood gobsmacked on the front porch, staring at the pile of dead bodies a few feet from the barrel of Merle's gun.

"Merle!" Daryl shouted. I hobbled up to him, gripping his shoulder for support. He locked his arm around my waist to hold me up and kept shouting. "What the fuck, man!"

"What..." I started. "What's going on?"

Abby started crying then. "What was that?" She asked in a shaky voice, "What _was _that?"

Merle turned around and put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.

"Get your shit, girl, we're leavin'." He ordered. She nodded and ran off into the house past Daryl and me. Merle looked up at us as he reloaded his shotgun. "Crazy som' bitches tried to eat me." He told us. "Was chompin' down on that poor bastard next door when I found 'em."

_"What?"_ My voice cracked. Did he just- he just _killed those people! _"Merle what the fuck are you on this time?!"

"Don't give me that Miss Kylie," He yelled back, "Go take a fuckin' look for yourself!"

He nodded to a body to his left and my stomach did a complete flip inside out.

It was Justin Rivers, the kid from next door... but if Merle hadn't told me it was him, I wouldn't have guessed in a million years. His face was ripped apart, jaw hanging off and drenched in thick red blood. His chest - what was left of it - consisted of a huge gaping hole where his ribs and organs should have been. His arm was completely dismembered and thrown carelessly a few feet from the body. The kid was only 19. He used to mow our lawn. I had to look away or I was going to see that stupid toast again.

"Jesus Christ." I sobbed. I pulled myself closer to Daryl and he kissed the top of my head.

"Imma go help Abby," He said, "Merle's right. We're leavin'. Now."

I nodded and he let me go. I held on to the porch railing for support, my broken ankle deciding to send shocks of pain up my leg.

"Fuck." I muttered, scrunching up my face.

"C'mere," Merle said, "Get your ass in the truck."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" I asked, shooting him an annoyed glare.

He chuckled. Abby appeared behind me, carrying a hell of a load of stuff in her arms.

"Babe can you help me?" She asked. Merle rolled his eyes and took half of her stuff, dumping it onto the ground beside Daryl's pickup. He said something to her and ran off to the side yard. She turned around and ran back to the house, leaving me alone outside.

"This is the part where Ashton Kutcher jumps out with a camera, right?" I said aloud, laughing at myself.

"Kyle," Daryl's voice mumbled from behind me, making me jump. "Really?"

I smiled innocently up at him and he rolled his eyes. "Here," He said, "Gotta carry you."

I didn't argue as he picked me up and walked me over to the pickup. I kept my eyes on his face so I didn't have to see the dead bodies. He opened the cab door and helped me climb in, tossing me the keys.

"Start her up and check the radio stations," He said, "I'll be right back."

I nodded and did as I was told as he started to walk away.

"Daryl?" I called to him. He stopped and turned around.

"Yeah?"

"I'm fucking scared."

He walked back over and kissed me, his hands cupping my face. "Hey. We're gon' be fine."

I nodded, "If you say so."

I picked up the keys with shaky hands and started the pickup, the truck roaring to life. I started flipping through stations as Daryl and Merle climbed into the bed of the truck and started loading in boxes of supplies.

"Getting anythin'?" Daryl asked through the back window.

"Sort of," I told him.

_"-Keep away from the infected, do not get bit-"_

_"-authorities are telling people not to worry-"_

_"-The president has issued-"_

_"-refugee centers set up all over the state-"_

_"-the situation is being controlled-"_

_"-are starting to suspect that the disease has gone global-"_

I switched off the radio. Daryl's eyes were wide. "Damn."

"Yeah, I know. So that means it's bigger than just us..? Whatever it is?"

He nodded, face hard and locked in a grimace. "Guess so."

"But don't you think the cops can handle a few freaks?" I started shaking. "I mean, right?"

"_Invincible _man-eatin' freaks!" I heard Merle shout from behind me.

"What?" He gestured his gun at one of the bodies. Involuntarily I looked at it, wincing.

"Fuckin' spic right there took a round in the chest and kept movin'." He muttered. "Wasn't till I shot the sum'bitch in the head that it stayed down."

"Jesus Christ."

A moment later they had all gone off in separate directions, getting food and clothes and any medical supplies - under my advisement - that they could find. Merle and Daryl wanted us to find one of those refugee camps and get to safety. I heard _'Kellie Pickler - Red High Heels'_ singing from my pocket and picked up my phone, seeing a familiar name pop up on the screen.

"Josh!"

_"You okay?" _I smiled at the familiar voice of Josh 'Tiny' Kovalchik, a member of the unit I was attached to in the US Marines, and a good friend.

"Yeah, yeah, we're fine. What the hell's going on?"

_"I don't know yet. Me and the guys were ordered in for a briefing. Something big is going down. You seen the freaking streets? Full of 'em."_

"Yeah, we had a run in with a few out here. Killed my neighbor! My freaking 19 year old neighbor!"

_"Yeah, Rowdy thinks it's Satanists or something."_

"Invincible Cannibal Satanists in the center of the bible belt, that's all we fucking need."

_"I know." _He sighed. _"Remember to always get a headshot. And don't let them bite you, either, Kylie."_

"Well no shit, Josh."

_"Seriously. If you get bit... you get infected."_

"What do you mean, infected?"

_"You turn into one of them."_

"Tiny, that doesn't make any sense man-"

_"Just trust me." _He interrupted. _"Now look, I gotta go, we're headed to the CDC. They're working on a cure. Try and meet up with us at some point. Josh out."_

He hung up and I sat there staring at the phone for what felt like hours. Infected? Like this thing was a disease? That didn't make any sense... I mean it was just a bunch of cultists or something, they couldn't actually influence you by biting you, that was impossible. And something else bothered me, how the heck could they be invincible? How could they survive a shot in the chest from Merle and keep going?

"MERLE!" Abby's blood-curdling scream ripped across the yard. I sat up and saw my best friend standing on the porch, screaming like a madwoman and covering her mouth.

Justin was up and walking.

No, not kidding. The kid was _walking_. He was_ dead_ and he was _walking._

Jaw hanging loose from his head, moaning a low guttural growl, hole through his chest - where I could see through the other side - and he was walking, limping, but still, slowly moving...

Towards the open door of the damn pickup.

"Shit!" I screamed. I leaned forward and tried to shut the door but he reached it before I could and tried to grab for my arm. I used my good leg to plant a hard kick into a remaining part of his chest, making him stumble back a bit. I shuffled back and reached for the glove box, scrambling for something to kill him with. My hands brushed against the handle of a combat knife, and I grabbed it, sliding it out of its holster and bringing it to Justin in one fluid movement.

"I'm sorry, kid." I muttered, and kicked him back again at the chest, his head jolting forward from the impact, just enough so I could stick the knife into the top of his head, right down to the hilt. It was a signature move, and Justin loved hearing stories about me and my team in Iraq. The irony made me feel sick to my stomach.

He stopped groaning and fell backwards, slipping down the side of the truck and onto the ground, his head still resting on the floor of the truck. I scooted forward, leaning over to take hold of my knife, kicking his head with my good leg so it slid out. I bit my lip as I wiped the blood off on the kid's shirt and kicked the body to the ground.

"What the hell's goin' on?" Daryl and Merle appeared around the corner.

"Where were you five seconds ago?" I yelled. "Justin got up and tried to fucking _eat _me!"

"What?"

"He walked!" Abby yelled. "He actually got up and _walked!"_

"Wahahoo looks like we've got ourselves s'more _walkers_," Merle said, pointing around the other side of the truck to the road. I followed his gaze and automatically wished I hadn't. Okay, so I've seen dead people. Hell, most of them I killed myself. But seeing dead people, up... and walking?

There was another three of those things - 'walkers', as Merle called them, walking down the street, groaning and dripping blood.

"Get in the house!"

"Kylie lock the doors!" I looked at Daryl and decided not to argue, reaching and closing both doors, making sure they locked. I watched out the window as Daryl carefully walked around the truck. He'd brought his hunting crossbow out now and was picking off the 'walkers' one by one. He'd get them in the chest, but they'd shrug it off and keep moving, arrows sticking out of their chests. I remembered what Josh said and quickly rolled down the window.

"Daryl! Headshots! It's the only way they'll go down!"

He didn't hesitate to change tactics, arrows strategically in each walker's forehead. They hit the ground hard, a sickening splattering noise echoing with each kill. The last one dropped and Merle and Daryl stood there, breathing hard.

"Well, ain't that a charmer." Merle muttered, nudging one of the bodies with his foot.

"Need to move these outta the way," Daryl said, "Gotta get the truck out."

"Yeah, Abby's car, too," Merle said, "She won't leave it behind."

Daryl shook his head. "Can't she take the Camaro?" He asked, "I like it better."

Merle shrugged. "My bitch loves her Mini."

Daryl sighed and he opened the door to the truck, climbing in beside me.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"City," He said, "See what the fuck's happenin'."

"You think it's that bad?" I asked, "Those.. Things?"

He didn't speak, just had this pained look on his face. I shivered and dug my phone from my pocket, punching through the buttons to my contact list.

"What you doin'?"

"Calling my sister."

I pressed the phone to my ear as it dialled.

_"Hello?" _A man's voice answered.

"Um, hi?" I asked. "Where's Lori?"

_"She's here,"_ spoke the man's voice, _"Who's this?"_

"I'm her step-sister, Kylie. Who is this? Is she okay?"

"Shane Walsh, a friend of Rick's. Lori's fine.. So's Carl. Listen, where are you?"

"Oh, yeah, Shane. We're at my place, just down the road... are you at Lori's?"

_"We're heading out of town. You should, too."_

"Is it that bad?"

_"Yeah. Lookin' like it."_

"What about Rick?"

_"They said they were evac-in' the patients to Atlanta," _Shane said, _"That's where I'm takin' Lori and Carl. S'pposed to be a refugee center there."_

"Guess we'll be headed that way, too, then." I said.

Daryl waved for me to give him the phone and he got the directions, shouting out the window for Merle to follow us. We hopped on the road into town and I watched as Daryl swerved to avoid a few of those dead things as they reached out for the truck.

It was going to be a long night.


	2. Walking Into the Flames

Chapter Two: Walking into the Flames

**Matt 'Scout' Walker**

I heard the General loud and clear - protect the CDC at all costs. I knew we were in for a shit storm the moment we got there. Usually the National Guard would get called in for this kind of crap - you know, fighting on home soil. According to my commanding officer, the National Guard was overrun in two weeks. So they called in us. It wasn't exactly a comfort.

I wasn't afraid to admit I was a little worried about the whole thing. I'd seen enough news reports over the past month to know that this wasn't going to be fun. I guess I'd been lucky since I hadn't actually seen anything in person, yet. Well, that would change soon. The whole idea of it was insane, to me. An enemy that can take a bullet to the chest and keep walking on with a beach ball size gap between their ribs? What the fuck was that? I mean come on, how could you really prepare yourself for something like this? I've seen a lot of crazy shit in my day - tours in Iraq will do that to you. But this? Fuck.

I was sitting in the back of a military humvee with an M-16 across my lap. I could hear the distant popping of gunfire as we got closer to our destination. In the two front seats were two of my closest friends and members of my unit - Josh 'Tiny' Kovalchik (The guy was 6'7" and 350 lbs of muscle, so it was an ironic nickname), and Adam 'Dragon' Sheets, also ironic because the kid was as sensitive as a butterfly. Next to me was Rowdy Galardi, our class clown. We basically called him whatever would piss him off the most because the guy was an asshole. But one of those loveable assholes that you just kind of smile and roll your eyes at.

The only missing spot was for our medic, Kylie. I called her 'Mouse' since the first day we met - she was drunk off her ass and dressed as Minnie Mouse at a Halloween party in Nashville, Tennessee. She was a corpsman - technically a naval officer - but she was attached to our unit. A few weeks back we were out paintballing with another unit of Marines and she fell out of a tree and broke her leg, so she wasn't called in with the rest of us when the shit hit the fan.

If you ask me, she got lucky.

"Kovalchik," I turned to our driver. "Got your cell on you?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Give Mouse a call, would you?"

He nodded, pulling his cell from his vest pocket. "Sure."

"It looks like hell out there," Rowdy commented, eyes out the window. "Freaks everywhere."

"Don't call them freaks," Adam snapped. "They used to be like us."

Rowdy scoffed at him. "I don't feel sorry for any of them. They're all either some poor bastard stupid enough to get bit, or somebody who offed themselves."

Adam furrowed his brow. "You don't need to be such a dick."

I agreed. Now was not the time for his class clown attitude. I smacked Rowdy up the side of the head.

"Ow! What the fuck, Scout?"

I glared at him. "Watch your mouth, buttercup. This is serious shit."

Rowdy rolled his eyes. "It's always _serious shit_, Matt. That's what we do. We are fucking _Marines_."

"That's not the point, damn it, Galardi," I sighed, and lowered my voice. "Dragon lost his fucking girlfriend this morning, okay? Now shut your trap."

Rowdy sat back. "Oh. Well, fuck." He looked over at Adam. "Sorry, brother."

The kid just flipped him off and leaned against the truck door. Rowdy shrugged and looked the other way. I sighed and looked to Josh, who just finished a phone call, setting his phone in his vest pocket.

"What's the word on our girl?" I asked.

"Daryl's taking care of her,"Josh said.

"Good. At least we know she'll be okay."

Rowdy snorted. "That Dixon guy scares the piss outta me. And look at me," he pounded a fist on his chest, "I'm a beast."

I rolled my eyes at him, and Adam gave me a sad look. "I hope she'll be okay."

"We all do," I said.

Josh sighed. "It's a bad omen, her not being here."

"Yeah," Rowdy agreed, "We're missing our squad bitch."

Josh snorted. "Princess, you know _you're_ the squad bitch."

"Asshole."

Josh smacked his lips at him. "You know just how to get me going, boo."

Rowdy rolled his eyes. "It's not right. We need our medic."

"Guys," I said, "We'll be fine. So will Kylie. Just focus on the mission."

"Mission?" Rowdy said. "This ain't a mission, Scout. It's a shit sandwich without the fuckin' bread. We are class A _fucked."_ He pointed out the glass. "Take a look out your window, brother."

I chewed the inside of my lip and looked to Josh. "How far out are we?"

"CDC's about two miles off," he said. "We're close."

Adam nodded, eyes out the window. He swallowed, "The deeper we get into the city, the worse things look."

"We're gonna be fine, guys." I said again. "Keep your heads in line and we'll get through this shit."

"If you say so, Scout."

I shot him a glare. "I can make it an order, Sergeant. Now shut your god damn trap."

I looked out my own window, controlling my breathing. I had to make sure my guys got home after this. That was always my responsibility. They were depending on me. But I knew Rowdy was right. They were sending us to the slaughter. There was no fucking way we were going to get out of this.

"Holy fuck," Josh hissed, and wrenched the wheel over. The humvee jerked to the side and the four of us were thrown sideways. "Sorry, boys!" Josh yelled, breathing hard and straightening the wheel. "One of 'em jumped in front of m-"

He stopped talking as we came out by the CDC. All of us stopped talking. I even stopped breathing for a moment. There were hundreds of those things. They were everywhere.

"Kovalchik," I snapped. "Get us in there."

Josh swung the humvee around and barrelled us toward a group of men set up under a tent, next to a tank. We skidded to a stop and the four of us grabbed our weapons and fell out onto the concrete. I hurried over to the tent, and looked for the highest rank in the area.

"Colonel," I said, giving a salute.

"At ease, Major," he gave me a nod. "You must be the Marine unit General Manning sent over."

"That'd be us, sir. Where do you need us?"

He picked up a Sat phone, "We're weak in numbers everywhere. Just get your boys out there and try and push these fuckers back. Pray to God you don't get bit."

"Yes, sir." I turned to my guys and walked out of the tent, the three of them on my tail. I clicked off the safety on my gun, barking orders over my shoulder. "Sheets, Galardi," I pointed to a spot up ahead where a half dozen of the undead were climbing over a sandbag barricade. "Go fix that mess. Kovalchik, you're on me." I pointed my gun at a frenzy a hundred feet away, where about forty or fifty walkers were crawling around on an abandoned tank. "We're gonna retake that tank."

"Lucky me," Josh sighed.


	3. I Just Want To Fix Everything

Chapter Three: I Just Want to Fix Everything

**Abigail Joy Marks**

I was standing in front of our house, looking over the chewed body of what used to be nineteen year old Justin Rivers. The kid next door. The kid who mowed our lawn. Who got us to buy him alcohol when he had his friends over on weekends. Who hot-boxed his Volvo one time on Merle's weed and then realized his mother's cocker spaniel was lying unconscious in the back seat.

Justin Rivers, who came over last week when Merle stormed out to see if I was okay… and who I then proceeded to sleep with.

Ever since I'd felt this sinking guilt in my gut. I'd never once looked at another man while I was with Merle. Ever. I knew he'd had other women. I mean, he was Merle Dixon. I never really cared about all the boozy one time skanks as long as at the end of the day he came home to _me_. I guess I just didn't think I deserved any better. And then after our fight last weekend, I thought I _did_ deserve better. So I let Justin in the house. He treated me like a man should treat a woman. Hell, I realize it's 'cause he's nineteen - and that kind of makes me a cougar - but the point stands. Merle treated me like a piece of ass half the time. Justin acted like he was lucky to fucking have me.

Yeah, here I was, standing in the middle of a front yard full of ripped up and shot to shit dead bodies, and stressing over the fact that I cheated on my boyfriend. Come on, Abby.

"Abby?" I snapped my head around. Kylie was leaning out the window of Daryl's truck.

"Yeah, what?"

"Are you okay?" She looked like she was about to cry. Damn hormonal wreck lately, that one. One second super happy next second depressed as shit. How the hell Daryl put up with her I had no clue.

"Fine. Jus' fine."

"Positive?" I raised my eyebrows at her. I just said I was fine. That means I'm fine. She sighed softly, closing her eyes in a real feminine way that made me think of a porcelain doll. "I feel bad for not knowing that Justin kid more."

I shivered involuntarily and looked away from my best friend, eyes on the ground.

"Yeah, I feel bad, too." I sighed heavily.

"We're headed towards Atlanta," Kylie said. "You coming with us, or Merle?"

"What do you think?" Merle walked from the back yard, and tossed a rifle at me. I caught it and cocked it back. "Bitch rides with me."

"Asshole," I muttered.

"You love it."

I rolled my eyes and lowered the rifle. "Fine, but we're taking my car."

He scoffed. "Like hell we are. Your car's a piece a'shit. We'll take Kylie's Camaro."

"You ain't drivin' my baby!" The blonde snapped from the pickup truck.

"I ain't takin' the fuckin' fag mobile either!" he yelled back.

"It is not gay!" I squealed. I got protective when it came to my car. I owned a royal blue mini cooper, and it was my absolute pride and joy. "And we're not leaving it behind." I crossed my arms and looked over at the older Dixon, one eyebrow raised like '_come on. Try me.'_

He paused for a second, looking me over. Then he sighed dramatically and stomped towards the mini parked at the side of the house. "Fuckin' fine." He growled, adding another string of 'bitch' and 'whore' under his breath as he walked away. I laughed to myself and rolled my eyes.

We squeezed into my tiny little car and followed Daryl and Kylie out onto the back roads into town, trying to avoid traffic and any heavily populated areas 'cause no one wanted to have to deal with more of those freaky ass undead things. To be honest I was still a little more than shaken up about seeing Justin all bloody and chewed up. I mean, I felt guilty. And it was sad, real sad. But I kind of felt... well... _relief_. Merle never had to know. He'd never go ballistic and scream at me. He'd never run off and beat the shit out of Justin. He'd never know. Maybe it was for the best.

But maybe it wasn't.

Fuck, this was going to make it worse. It was going to eat at me now until I told him. We'd been together for what - twenty years now? And never once had I been with another

Fuck! I can't tell him! Who am I _kidding_?

The drive into town sucked ass. The only good part was Merle and his somehow entertaining crave for violence. Well, ain't shit anyone can do about it when the people he was killing were already dead, right? He kept going completely out of his way to kill those cannibal-things that he was enthusiastically calling 'walkers' now, laughing every time he had to wipe the blood-splatter off the window with the wind-shield wipers. It was fucking nasty.

So we were on our way into town to meet up with Kylie's step-sister, Lori, her son, Carl, and a family friend, Shane - who's a cop. Sweet, this'll be interesting. I've been told to both 'behave' and at the same time keep the Dixons both in check to help out Kylie. Needless to say, I have a hell of a lot on my hands, especially with Merle purposely trying to hit those freaking walkers with my little car right now. To be honest it's kind of funny... I never thought I'd live to see the day when Merle Dixon would drive a _mini cooper_.

"Having fun yet?" I asked. He laughed and swerved to hit another one, blood splattering across the windshield. "Hey Dixon, y'know when I said we're takin' my car... did I forget to leave out the _'don't destroy it' _part?"

He chuckled and ignored me, almost taking us off the road to hit another. "Crazy ass redneck!" I screamed, hanging onto the overhead handle for dear life.


End file.
